


Symbiosis

by bgd_thrifty



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Body Image, Consent Issues, Domestic Violence, Drug Addiction, Dubious Consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Infidelity, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Not Happy, Physical Abuse, Self-Hatred, Substance Abuse, Suicide Attempt, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 00:51:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgd_thrifty/pseuds/bgd_thrifty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Al needs Scorpius and Scorpius needs Al. That's how Al would like to think of it, at any rate. It's not unhealthy or wrong. It just is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Symbiosis

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the nextgendarkfest 2012 on livejournal, based on Prompt: #23 - The boys living together and hiding the fact that one of them abuses the other both emotionally and physically. I personally believe this to be my best work to date. I would say enjoy, but the content matter is much as described in the tags. If you feel I've missed a tag, please tell me!

"But Dad–" Albus Severus knows his voice has gone high pitched and whiny, the way everyone tells him it does when he's having a 'temper tantrum', but he doesn't care. His dad simply can't say no. He doesn't understand what's at stake here, not like Albus does. Scorpius will actually fucking murder him if he can't do this one stupid, _easy_ thing.  
  
"Bloody _hell_ , Albus! Can you not let this go for one moment? I told you I'd think about it, and I have. The answer is _no_." His dad sounds irritated, and it takes quite a bit for him to get that way. In all the years Al has been alive, his dad has rarely even raised his voice. It might have been different when he was younger, but his father isn't usually forthcoming with information about the war.  
  
"Dad, I'm twenty-three. Realistically, you can't stop me from doing this. I'm an adult. I've been an adult for six years now and I can make my own decisions." Before his dad can speak, Al is hurriedly carrying on. " _Please_ support me in this – me and Scorp have already signed everything, and…" Al trails off at the frightening expression his father sports.  
  
"So what was this? You weren't actually asking for your mother's and my permission, were you? You were _telling_ us that this is going to happen, right?" Al squares his shoulders. He's a Keeper after all, and he cuts an impressive figure. He surpassed his dad's height easily at the age of around fourteen, and he's only a bit shorter than his uncle, Ron.  
  
"Well, yeah. Like I said: I'm an adult." The words come out of his mouth and seem to hover there in front of him, freezing as if they are uncomfortable with being exposed to the harsh light of day. Al knows _he_ is. His dad rubs a palm over his face and it drags on the heavy bags below his eyes. Albus is sorry because he knows he put them there. Him alone. There's no failure in their family like him but he's trying to move forwards – to _fix_ things – and no one's helping him. They want him to stay in the past and Albus can't allow himself to remember those times anymore.   
  
"Al, you are not ready for this. Especially not with Scorpius bloody Malfoy. Maybe if you were with one of your cousins–" he doesn't say friends, of course, because Al has none "–I might think about it, but I do not want you living with that…" Al can't bear to hear anything bad said about Scorpius and white noise fills his head so he doesn't have to hear his father's lies.  
  
"Is this because of _his_ Dad? I thought you were over all of that shit? Seriously, having all these hang-ups from when you were younger than _me_ is pretty sad."  
  
"Funnily enough, Al, the sins of the father have absolutely no bearing on this. I cannot _stand_ Scorpius Malfoy and frankly, if I could make it so that you'd never see him again, I would." Albus scoffs. There's no way the two of them could ever be kept apart and that's a fact.  
  
"Like I said, Dad, I'm not a kid and I can do what I want."  
  
"Do you even know what you sound like? 'I can do what I want'? Maybe I would be able to trust you in making good decisions if you hadn't tried to _drown_ yourself last year. And it's not like that was the first time! I let you move out and a few weeks later I'll be seeing your obituary in the _Prophet_." Albus has nothing to say. He _knew_ that his dad would bring it up, but something was hoping that this conversation wouldn't dredge up anything that would render him speechless. He looks at his dad, complexion splotchy from high temper and deep frown lines in his forehead, and deflates. He hates arguing with his dad, even when the man's so, _so_ wrong.  
  
"Dad, you can't keep me here forever. If you're not going to help me with it, whatever. I'm a Quidditch player and I can fucking well support myself."  
  
"Language, Albus," his father says in response, addressing none of what he said. Just to be spiteful, Al mutters,  
  
"Fuck off," as he brushes past his father. He slams the door shut behind him.  
  


**

  
  
  
_Albus Severus Potter is in his third year at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He is a Hufflepuff – loyal and unafraid of toil. He has no one to be loyal to, however, and he's not that clever either, so he sits in the library for hours on end and works. When he goes to the common room after a long day, his eyes prickle a little when he sees people laughing with all their mates, and he wonders what's so wrong with him that no one but his relatives gives him the time of day. He is very similar in looks to his father, he knows – after all, everyone and their mum likes to tell him so – but he is not good at anything. He can't Seek, he's crap at Defence Against the Dark Arts, and he can't even set himself apart from his father and be good at Potions because he's just… not.  
  
The bell is ringing in the library to notify those engrossed in their studies that it's lunchtime. Al rubs at his eyes, grudgingly picking up his books and placing them in his bag carefully. He's clumsy, all hulking figure and no finesse. Once, he overheard his uncle Ron telling his mum that he looked like Gregory Goyle from their Hogwarts days. That had stayed with him. But even Goyle had had friends. Al only has books.  
  
Just as Al is standing, pushing off from the table, he feels a hand on his shoulder stopping him from moving. He sits back down and looks up into the face of fellow third year, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy who, unlike him, is a worthwhile member of society. He is also a Slytherin through and through and that scares Albus something silly. Scorpius smiles at him, and two perfectly arranged rows of pearly white teeth dazzle him. For a split second, Albus feels as though he is looking into the mouth of a shark and then the feeling passes.  
  
"Hello, Potter," Scorpius says. "We're going to be best friends." _   
  


**

  
  
  
"You don't seem very enthusiastic," Scorpius says accusingly as they stand in the fully furnished kitchen of their new home.  
  
"No, I am, I promise! It's just that I had an argument with Dad before I came here and it's still irritating me. He didn't want me to move in so I'm going to have to use my Quidditch money and…" He's rambling, so it's no surprise when Scorpius lifts a hand to silence him and he trails off.  
  
"Your dad's a fucking arsehole, we already know this. It's fine, _my_ dad already said he'd pay for the whole thing." Scorpius obviously thinks that that will solve everything but it leaves Albus's skin crawling. His continued silence is picked up easily by Scorpius and his grey eyes narrow.  
  
"What?" he asks, accusingly.  
  
"Well, you know, if things don't… work out then I won't be able to go home, not after the argument me and Dad just had."  
  
"What do you mean 'if things don't work out'? Why wouldn't they? You going to break up with me? I fucking knew it, Albus. You always do this. Sometimes I wonder if I'm the only one who wants to commit in this relationship. We've been together since we were fifteen. Is that not permanent enough for you?" Al can see that he's fucked up. He always does this – pisses Scorpius off by saying stupid shit – and it's a wonder Scorpius hasn't just given up with all the ways Albus has unwittingly tried to break them apart. "Well, you know what? Fuck you. Fuck off back to your stupid fucking family who don't fucking want you anyway. Maybe I don't either!"  
  
Scorpius is shouting and a part of Al starts cowering. But another part has to be the brave Gryffindor that he should have been. He rushes forward, hoping to still his agitated boyfriend. Scorpius is so much smaller than him, though, in height as well as weight, and he has to be careful with his stupid, uncoordinated self. He needn't have worried – as soon as he gets within arm's reach of Scorpius, his boyfriend lashes out, sending an unprepared Albus sprawling backwards.  
  
He falls, and as he does, the side of his head whacks with a meaty noise against one of the counters. Dazed, he crumples to the ground. All he can see is stars. Scorpius glimmers in the distance. Al lies there and Scorpius says nothing, leaning against the kitchen table with his arms crossed and one leg hooked behind the other. Once his head has stopped spinning – although a horrible throbbing has started up in his skull – Al picks himself up off the ground and shuffles towards Scorpius, who looks unimpressed. As Al stands in front of him, swaying, Scorpius lifts an eyebrow and waits. Al breathes in deeply, ignoring the lancing pain that shoots through his head as he does so.  
  
"I'm sorry, Scorpius. I wouldn't be able to cope if I drove you away by being an idiot. I love you too much." He sounds so _whiny_ but he can't help it. Throughout school, he was always the immature one and without Scorpius's support, he reverts instantly.  
  
"It's fine. Just don't piss me off like that again, okay? You could have been really hurt when you fell, not just a stupid bump on the head." The dull pulsing in his skull seems to indicate that he has more than just a 'bump' but Scorpius always knows better than him, so why should this be any different? "Let's get you cleaned up, Al. You look a mess."  
  
While brushing his teeth the next day, Al is confronted with a face that is half black and blue. Even pressing his fingers to the bruising lightly causes blinding pain.  
  
"Scorpius, could you come here for a second?" Al hears a muttered reply and then the bathroom door is opening. Scorpius has obviously just rolled out of bed and he looks incredible – perfectly ruffled hair and pyjamas slung low on his narrow hips. Al can't help but think how lucky he is.  
  
"What is it, Al? Bed's getting cold."  
  
"I've got bruises everywhere from last night. Could you heal them for me? I'd do them myself, but –"  
  
"Fuck that, you'd blast half your face off. You're shit at Healing Charms," Scorpius interjects. Al flushes, but he can't dispute the truth.  
  
"So could you help me?" His eyes connect with Scorpius's through the mirror but he can't discern his boyfriend's expression. Scorpius is leaning like he's a model posing against the doorjamb. Scorpius stretches his neck upwards and sighs.  
  
"No, I don't think so. I'm still annoyed." Al's face crumples. "Do you know how upset I was last night? Knowing that after all these years, you don't think we'll last? I want you to be reminded of how much you hurt me every time you move your face." Scorpius closes his eyes, breaking their connection and leaving a deadly silence in his wake.  
  
"If I go to work like this, people will say all sorts, Scorp-" Scorpius's eyes snap open and the fire in them despite their cool colour burns through Albus's soul.  
  
"So? You'll have to tell them that someone half your size managed to push you over and you're such an _amazing_ Keeper with such _fantastic_ balance that you tripped over your own clodhopping feet. It's nothing but the truth, after all."  
  
Al can't say anything to that. It's nothing but the truth, after all.  
  


**

  
  
  
_Last night, Scorpius kissed Albus in the hallway before they separated to go to their respective common rooms. For once, Al wasn't the loner coming back from the library alone. He's been friends with Scorpius for about a year now, but nothing like this has ever happened. Today, he wonders if Scorpius would mind being called his boyfriend now. He bounds down the stairs, happier than he's been in a while. At breakfast, he searches for Scorpius and sees him sitting next to Avery Zabini. They're laughing and Scorpius is sitting very close. Too close. Albus feels his heart sink down to his shoes as Zabini nicks a strawberry from Scorpius's plate and Scorpius steals it back, closing his mouth around the tines of the fork and staring at Zabini while he chews.  
  
Al can't help but wonder what he did wrong. Is he a bad kisser? Does Scorpius not want to be with him after all? His dreams of being Scorpius's boyfriend dissipate into so much dust. He'd had fantasies of them growing up together, Al as the Keeper he's always secretly wanted to be and Scorpius as his loving, supportive partner or maybe even as the Seeker on the same team. Scorpius is so short and thin that Al knows he'd be faster than anyone else in the league.  
  
He sees his face reflected in his goblet and although the image is distorted by the curvature of the vessel, Al knows it's not lying that much. He's no catch. He's nothing special. Not like Scorpius. If he wants to be with Zabini, then he should be. They'll make a much more attractive couple and Al can't possibly get in the way of that, not even if he desperately wants to. From across the hall, Al's eyes connect with Scorpius's. His expression is inscrutable and eventually he turns away, back to giggling with Zabini and his friends. Friends: something that Al has in very short supply. And maybe now he doesn't even have one of those. _   
  


**

  
  
  
Practice had been brutal with Albus barely able to concentrate. The ache was never-ending. If he let his mind wander from the Quaffle for even a second, the Chasers scored, but it was so _hard_ when he felt as though his whole face was on fire.  
  
Later, Albus stands under the shower, hot water stinging his bruises mercilessly. Everything hurts. He has scrapes all over from more than one rough landing on the field and with the turmoil in his mind added on, he's one big tangle of suffering. He gets sympathetic slaps on the back from his teammates and commiserating assertions.  
  
"Everyone has bad days, mate! Chin up," Bones says. Albus makes a weak attempt at returning his grin but is too tired to speak.  
  
"It's a shame Kenton wasn't here today, ain't it?" Bones continues, referring to their team's Healer – currently on annual leave in _Skegness_ , of all places. "He would've fixed you up quick sharp. You should get to Mungo's after this and get your mug seen to, yeah?" Al mumbles in agreement but tries not to move his face too much. Before the mirrors had steamed up, he'd seen that it was a mess of blue and black and yellow.  
  
"Oi, Potter! Nice shiner – you look like one of them battered wife adverts on the tube. Didn't you make Princess Malfoy's bed like he likes it?" Clive Smith is much like his father by all accounts – a toxic individual that one should keep at least half a country away from at all times. Al has a special grief with him. They might be teammates now, but Al will never forget the torment that Clive put him through in their time together in Hufflepuff.  
  
"Shut up, Clive," he mutters, and Smith is practically whooping with laughter. Al's never been good at comebacks and even here, where he earned his place through hard graft, he's still the punch line to every joke.  
  
"When you get to Mungo's, be a love and bring me back some salve for that burn!" Al makes a note to switch out Smith's hair gel for Bubotuber pus.  


**

  
  
_"You've been avoiding me," Scorpius says, sliding onto the seat next to Al. Al doesn't say anything. He doesn't have anything to say. He'd left the Great Hall after pushing his breakfast around for a good while and had been confronted with the sight of Scorpius and Zabini groping each other heavily in the hallway. Al had felt his bottom lip start wobbling and had exited the scene before he could make a fool of himself. In response to Scorpius's statement now, he simply grunts and pretends to be engrossed in the book of Charms he's reading. Scorpius is having none of that.  
  
"Fucking look at me when I'm talking to you," he says, slamming the book shut and narrowly escaping damaging Al's hand in the process. Al looks at a point just over Scorpius's ear and waits.  
  
"What is your problem?" Scorpius hisses. "You've barely spoken a word to me in a week. That's not like you, Al. Doing something so petty instead of telling me what's wrong so we can fix it? I thought we were best friends." Scorpius looks truly wounded and Al starts to feel guilty. He suddenly feels a little ridiculous for having such a fit over Scorpius and Zabini.  
  
"It's just… I thought that maybe we weren't only best friends. That we could be something more. And then I saw you and Zabini and I got upset." Al can hear Pince lurking not too far away, always drawn to hissed conversations in case they escalate into arguments that could harm her precious books.  
  
"Excuse me, but when I like someone and kiss them and afterwards they don't ask me out, what am I supposed to think? You walked off to your tower like I didn't even exist." Al had been walking on sunshine at this point and hadn't even_ thought _of doing something like that. It was best not to count your chickens before they hatched, and he had definitely not been willing to be rejected by his only friend.  
  
"I'm sorry, Scorpius. I never thought you'd pick someone like me over him."  
  
"I've known Zabini for years and I barely even call him by his first name," Scorpius says, waving a hand to dispel any protests that Al might have. "Look," Scorpius continues, pushing away from the table and beginning to stand. "I'm not feeling this whole insecurity thing and I'm not going to feed your ego either. If you're going to be weird about this, then I'm out. Bye, Potter." He picks up his bag and Al can't believe that he's managed to push away the only friend he's made here.  
  
"Wait!" he nearly shouts before remembering where he is. Scorpius stops but his shoulders are hunched over and his body is turned away.  
  
"What?" he asks, dully.  
  
"Will you…" Al swallows. "Will you be my boyfriend?" Scorpius whirls around and there's a massive grin on his face.  
  
"'Course I will, you massive sap." And when he kisses Scorpius again, Al makes sure that this time, Scorpius knows he's wanted. _  


**

  
  
"Practice injury?" Lily Luna asks as she smears a cool balm over his face. Al shrugs and winces as one of her nails catches on his eyelid. She's not being particularly gentle.  
  
"Yeah, sort of. Ow, fuck." If he elaborates, he's sure she'll start prying, and Al just wants to get out of here. She doesn't look best pleased with him and Al's pretty sure he knows why.  
  
"You should be more careful. Looks like you had a round with a Bludger and lost. Badly. Does it hurt when I do this?" she asks, pressing down on his cheekbone. White-hot lightning streaks through his brain and Al feels like he's going to be sick. His reaction must be visible, for his sister mutters " _Episkey_ ," and then says,  
  
"You had a small fracture in your cheekbone. Honestly Al, you should try to be at least a little bit less clumsy. One day you're going to trip over your own" ' _clodhopping_ ', Al adds to himself "feet and do yourself a real injury." Al refuses to respond to that. This wasn't even his fault. Okay, well it _was_ – wasn't exactly Scorpius's, so who else could be at fault? – but it was an _accident_.  
  
Lily cleans her hands off and sits down at her desk, surrounded by framed certificates. She is the apple of their parents' eye and while Al currently makes more money than she does, he knows that they are so much prouder of her legitimate achievements. He may be a Quidditch player with an enviable salary, but she is a newly qualified Healer and is already rising quickly through the ranks despite her young age. His career will be over by forty-five. Hers will barely have started.  
  
Finally, Lily broaches the subject they're both avoiding.  
  
"I'm really annoyed with you for upsetting Mum and Dad like that." Al can feel anger start to smoulder in his chest. Is there no one in his family who supports him?  
  
"Well maybe if they weren't so stifling, I wouldn't have had to move out." Lily scoffs.  
  
"Don't try and pretend. We all know it's because Malfoy has you wrapped around his little finger. You'd do anything for him and he really doesn't deserve it." Albus is the one who doesn't deserve Scorpius. No one understands just how shit he is. Everything he's ever done of any worth was down to one Scorpius Malfoy. "James is furious at you." Al snorts and Lily ignores him. Lily and James represent pleasant memories of their grandparents and the sacrifice they made for their son. The duo. And then there's him: Albus Severus. Named after an old man and a psychotic Slytherin. No wonder his life's always been awful. Al knows that he's being bitter. Albus Dumbledore was an incredible man, and he's heard how much Severus Snape did during the war. But still. He has names with gravity and weighty baggage.  
  
"So are you siding with them, then?" he asks, needing a reason to tear himself away from this family who are starting to seem as though they hate him. Lily looks at him, and the disgust in her eyes has a part of Al shrivelling into a tight ball.  
  
"Until you stop being a petulant idiot and truly look at what you're doing to yourself, I think I will. James as well." With his face healed and feeling much better, Al gets off the chair.  
  
"Fine then. Don't talk to me unless the lot of you are willing to apologise." Lily laughs, and it is a cold, dead sound. Al feels his ears burning and he's sure he must look ugly with the pink flush spreading across his cheeks. The good genes were having a break when he was born and were rejuvenated just in time to make another attractive Potter right after him. He refuses to say another word – he _will_ be the bigger person – and leaves Lily's office. As he does, he knocks over a potted plant by the door and the shame that blooms in him gleams like a banner above his head. He is the world's biggest embarrassment.  
  
When he gets home, Al can't stop the stinging in his eyes from developing into full tears. They run down his cheeks and snot starts leaking from his nose and if Scorpius was here to see him–   
  
He's always been like this. A big baby. A huge loner with no friends but his family – and even that's no longer true – and nothing to divert his thoughts from the morbid. He used to wonder what was wrong with him when he first started Hogwarts. What repelled others from him? His mum used to say that it was because people didn't understand him, that there was nothing wrong with him at all. But Al hadn't believed her and over the years she'd stopped saying things like that. Scorpius is the only one who has stood by him consistently. Since the day he first made contact with Al, he's never left him alone, except for the times when Al has made a colossal mistake. But Al is so scared of losing Scorpius that those times are few and far between. If they're coming more frequently these days, it's because Al is fucking up more and taking his good fortune for granted.  
  
Al rubs at his eyes and runs himself a bath. He's on autopilot, just a little, and he knows that he wouldn't be doing this if anyone he knew was here. For months after the incident, he would hear the floorboards outside the bathroom creaking as people lurked to make sure he wasn't trying to drown himself again. Al remembers holding his breath once to test them. Having his whole family burst in while he was stark naked isn't an experience he ever wants to repeat. When he sinks in, the hot water isn't quite comforting. He feels like he should be under it, breathing in and filling his lungs to the point of no return. The first time he'd tried to commit suicide, he'd jumped from the Astronomy Tower. He'd thought it poetic, dying at the same point one of his namesakes killed the other. If he'd have known there were magical safety nets put in place in order to prevent just that, he would have tried something else. As it stood, his actions had caused mass hysteria.  
  
He's a drama queen. A fat, hulking, fairy queen. That's what Scorpius calls him sometimes, and it's true, isn't it? Always making a big fuss out of nothing. It's high time people start getting sick of him. If he really wanted to die after that first time, Scorpius always whispers to him when they're having a particularly vicious argument, he would have used his wand and cast Avada Kedavra. Al knows that's true, and that's what makes him the worst coward.  
  
Although he feels like his world is imploding, Albus keeps his head above the water line. Because he's too spineless to do otherwise.  


**

  
  
_This time he knows it's not an accident or because Scorpius wants more from him. He's given Scorpius_ everything _. Florian Parkinson isn't even_ gay _as far as Al knows, and yet… Al doesn't know what Scorpius_ wants _. Ever since they started going out – even thinking that stills makes Al shiver with happiness – everything has been perfect. So why is he watching his boyfriend have sex with Parkinson while hidden under his dad's invisibility cloak? They've not done_ it _yet, him and Scorpius. Scorpius had said that he didn't think Al was ready. Al hadn't thought that meant that he was getting off with someone else on the side.  
  
The next day, Al confronts Scorpius and all the scenarios he's run through in his head cannot prepare him for what actually happens.  
  
"You watched me have sex? What the fuck, are you a_ complete _freak? Who_ does _that?" Al's righteous indignation had shrunk away like an elephant from a mouse at Scorpius's towering fury.  
  
"I… I came to surprise you and you and Parkinson were –"  
  
"No, don't try and make me feel guilty or something. You broke into Slytherin, snuck into my room and _watched _me. Do you not realise how messed up that is? What's wrong with you?" Al's not sure if there actually is something wrong with him. Is he overreacting? He's never been in a relationship after all, and what if all this stuff is completely normal?  
  
"Scorpius, I'm sorry." Scorpius says nothing. He leans against a window sill and puts his face in his hands. When he removes them, Al can see that his eyes are red. He moves towards his – ex? – boyfriend and Scorpius takes a definite step sideways.  
  
"Don't come near me. I can't look at you right now. You know, everyone told me that getting involved with you was a mistake but I ignored them because I thought I knew the real you. Now I think maybe I was wrong." Scorpius's sneer could cut glass. He's folded his arms tightly across his body and seems to be holding himself. Al wishes that he could take back his words and be the one to hold him but he's already made his bed.  
  
They walk in opposite directions. Scorpius to the dungeons and Al to the Astronomy Tower. _  


**

  
  
"Fuck, _yes_ , Al. Yeah, just…" Scorpius's voice hitches to a stop as his back arches. Albus likes to know that what he does pleases Scorpius. It's so hard sometimes to make him happy in other facets of their lives – not Scorpius's fault of course, but it still gets to Albus sometimes – that the bedroom's the only place he can make up for it. Scorpius likes his cock and Albus tries to make sure that it's the only one Scorpius likes from here into the distant future. There have been too many others in the past.  
  
They're rolling over in the bed now, laughing breathlessly, and Scorpius is riding him, knees splayed wide as he rocks forwards and backwards. Al's mouth is completely dry and he places his hands on Scorpius's hips, enjoying the feeling of smooth warm skin under his sweaty palms. Scorpius grimaces and bats them away and Al can't feel badly about that because it's justified, isn't it?  
  
Scorpius bends over – if Al was this flexible, his coach would have a field day – and begins to lick at the skin over Albus's collarbone. Al closes his eyes and loses himself in the sensation, retaining enough presence of mind not to buck wildly like a teenager and piss Scorpius off.  
  
He is unpleasantly brought back to Earth by a light pressure on his right nipple. He moves carefully, not wanting to do himself an injury but definitely wanting to dislodge Scorpius.  
  
"Scorp, you know I don't like that." They've tried a lot of things – how can they not have done when they've been together for so long? – but Albus knows one thing. He doesn't like pain and pleasure mixing.  
  
"I like it," Scorpius says, swiftly bending again to nibble lightly at the sensitive skin. Albus pushes his head away, but his heart's beating so quickly and he knows Scorpius can feel it. When Albus stops pushing, Scorpius resumes his prior activity as if no words were exchanged. Al can feel his erection waning and when it slides out of Scorpius with a wet noise, Scorpius makes a face and straightens his spine. He sneers, reaches behind himself and twists, not a little roughly, at the offending flesh. It doesn't stir.  
  
Scorpius stands on the bed. His feet are planted firmly, despite the luxurious, plush sheets and mattress, on either side of Al's powerful thighs. Albus would rather have legs like Scorpius's: long and lean limbs that go on forever.   
  
"Doesn't look like little Al's interested in the proceedings anymore," Scorpius says with a small smile. His eyes are like flint. "Turn over then. One of us might as well get something out of this."  


**

  
  
_They've made up. Al can't go more than a few days without speaking to Scorpius, although the reverse doesn't seem to be the same. It's just as well that Albus didn't let this drag out. Scorpius needs him more than ever right now. Draco Malfoy, who despite his low profile since the war had still managed to attract trouble with the regularity of clockwork, had been implicated in an illegal potions smuggling ring. Scorpius appears sure of his innocence and believes fervently in his father's imminent acquittal and so Albus has no choice but to agree, no matter_ what _Uncle Ron says.  
  
What he doesn't agree with is Scorpius consuming the potions that got his father into trouble in the first place. Albus usually capitulates to Scorpius in all things, but he's managed to stand his ground on this one. He won't take any prohibited mind-altering substances, especially not while he's still at school. This has… caused some issues. Scorpius is different when he and Parkinson and Zabini take the potions. Removed though he is from castle gossip, even Al has heard the rumours. The idea of the boy who is both his boyfriend and best friend having sex with other people makes him want to vomit. But as long as he carries on being a wand-in-the-mud, he's always going to be left behind. Left trailing. Left out. _  


**

  
  
Things are going well at work and at home, even if he's currently estranged from his immediate family. He has to stay away from Sunday lunches at the Burrow because his parents and siblings will no doubt be there, but he still makes an effort to stop in whenever he has time to see his grandparents. _They_ love him unconditionally and even though they're not fans of the Malfoys, they don't pretend like they know Scorpius and then hate him according to their prejudices.  
  
Tonight, he's made dinner for Scorpius – his favourite of roast lamb with all the trimmings. Practice was especially gruelling today and Albus feels like curling up with Scorpius on the sofa and listening to the wireless. He can barely keep his eyes open though, and he's sure Scorpius will be back soon enough to wake him up…  
  
Albus starts when he hears the pop of someone Apparating into their hallway. He looks out of the window and sees that it's pitch black. Confused, he lifts a sleep heavy arm to look at the time and is a little horrified to see that it's past midnight. Where has Scorpius been?  
  
"Scorp?" he calls out. He hears grumbling and the sound of someone stumbling over the rug. Scorpius only ever loses his footing when he's completely off his face, and Al finds himself sighing. The door suddenly cracks against the door jamb and Al winces even as he scrambles to his feet. Scorpius is holding himself up using the wooden frame as an aid and even from the sofa, Al can see he is entirely wasted.  
  
"Al? Oh, there you are. M'hungry, what did you make?" He lurches over to the kitchen counter and pokes experimentally at the lamb and the pool of congealed fat underneath it. "The fuck was this in a past life?" he asks, laughing to himself. Al feels his shoulders start to hunch.  
  
"It was just fine four hours ago, Scorpius. Maybe if you hadn't gone who-knows-where, you'd have been able to appreciate it. Where have you been?" Scorpius turns around, and it is extremely undignified as he shuffles carefully one foot and then the other.   
  
"I'm sorry, darling. Not all of us can be recluses. Tell me, when was the last time your team invited you out for drinks after a practice, hm? I'm the only one who can put up with you for longer'n about a minute." He's slurring, but the words still cut Albus deeply. They used to ask, in the early days. But it just wasn't worth it, knowing that if he went out, Scorpius would either be at home, bored and alone, or would go out and _find_ fun. Like tonight.  
  
Al usually gets upset, but tonight he's angry. Why does everything have to be his fault? Well, perhaps that's going too far, but he'd stayed in to make dinner like a good future spouse and Scorpius hadn't even bothered to tell him he'd be late. Not to mention, Al realises as Scorpius's head lolls about, his boyfriend isn't just drunk. He's _on_ something.  
  
"Scorp, what have you taken?" he asks, and his mouth is dry like cotton wool. "You promised you'd stop." If his voice cracks, Al thinks he can forgive himself in this moment. Few would believe that Scorpius, perfect Scorpius Malfoy, had a potion abuse problem. He's not supposed to be taking them anymore but Al knows dilated pupils when he sees them. He has seen them too many times. Before he knows what he's doing, he's across the room and his hands are gripping the front of Scorpius's shirt, which is covered in dubious stains. Al just hopes they're not the leavings from some random stranger Scorpius picked up on a street corner.  
  
Scorpius licks his lips and his head rolls around in a manner Al finds obscene. Finally, he seems to find some amount of sobriety and his eyes focus on Al's as he stands on tiptoe to try and bring them eye to eye. Al can smell an unpleasant tang on Scorpius's breath and he wishes he'd tried harder at Potions at school so he'd have some kind of idea what ingredient he was scenting. He's so bitter at the situation; so _tired_ with everything in his life falling to pieces that he barely notices Scorpius speak. The sharp pinch to the back of his hand brings him back into the thick of the moment.  
  
"Pay attention when I'm talking to you, Al," Scorpius says, and he sounds like every teacher Albus ever had as a child who thought that his inability to listen for extended periods of time was somehow his fault. Even _he_ knows that there's something wrong with the way he's wired. He can't be responsible for _everything_ , can he?  
  
"I said 'punch' me," Scorpius continues, and his voice is like a straight razor.  
  
"Scorp… what? I would never –" He's forgotten of course. Forgotten that Scorpius isn't in his right mind at the moment. Isn't in any kind of mind, really.  
  
"This isn't spousal abuse, Al. You've been readin' too many papers again. I suppose the _Prophet_ is just about at your reading level." That hurts. Al had had trouble in school reading at the advanced level required for some of their subjects and although Scorpius had kindly helped him at the time, every time they have a serious argument, his intelligence invariably is brought up. "That pissed you off, didn't it? Go on, punch me. It'll make you feel good." Al shakes his head and tries to get away but his hands can't seem to unclench from around the fabric of Scorpius's clothes. Albus has him shoved up against the sink and Scorpius's head is digging into the cupboard on the wall. He doesn't appear to care and that unnerves Al.  
  
"Fucking baby. Is it hard being you, Al? 'Cos it's hard being _with_ you. Can't do a single thing right, can you?" Scorpius is yelling now and Al is losing feeling in his fingers. They tingle like the blood's left them and when he looks down, they're a pale, sickly yellow. He can't concentrate on that for long, however, as Scorpius has twisted round in his grasp and is slamming his own face against the door of the cabinet.  
  
"Al, no, stop! Please, I won't do it again. I promise, _please_ –" Al's got no fucking clue what's going on and his shock finally allows him to let go. Scorpius doesn't stop.  
  
"What did I do?" Scorpius asks as he punches himself in the face. Al hears something crack.  
  
"I'll change… I'll be better," Scorpius sobs. Al backs away, hands held in front of him as he tries to reconcile what Scorpius is saying with the knowledge that he is _not_ hitting his boyfriend. He rubs at his eyes, hoping that this ghastly vision will turn out to be a dream, but Scorpius just _keeps going_.  
  
What feels like hours later, he stops, breathing heavily from the effort of his exertions. When Scorpius raises his head, there is blood clumping together strands of his hair and Albus is sure that he can see that a tooth is missing.  
  
"You've seen what I can do, Al," Scorpius rasps, sounding scarily sober. It sounds as though he's bitten through his tongue. "If you leave me, I will fucking kill myself."  
  
Al believes him. With every fibre of his being, he believes him.  
  
"I'll never leave you," he manages to choke out, voice thick with mucus. Scorpius smirks through swollen lips and stumbles towards the bedroom. Al follows. He always will.  


**

  
  
In the morning, Al wakes to find a note on the pillow beside him.  
  
 _Gone to Mungo's.  
  
S x_  
  
it reads, and the little 'x' makes the corners of Al's mouth quirk up. That is the last happy moment of the day. The next thing he knows, there are Aurors in his room and he's being trussed up in his pyjamas and carted off to the Ministry.  


**

  
  
"I would never hurt Scorpius!" Albus cries, slamming his large hands down on the table. He regrets the motion in seconds as James leans back out of his reach and directs an unimpressed look towards someone behind his brother. The fight goes out of Al. "I would _never_ hurt him. I love him so much," he whispers. He hears a quiet, disbelieving cough behind him.  
  
"So tell me, who drugged Scorpius Malfoy and beat him senseless if it wasn't you?" Al says nothing. What can he say? That Scorpius is an addict – well, Albus can't prove that, but why else would he take the potions? His silence is taken as admission and James sighs as though he's made up his mind. What does it matter anyway? Al has fucked everything up, just like he always does. James pushes a photo across the table. The image of Scorpius is looking even worse than he did last night, as the bruising has come in full force, leaving Scorpius a battered mess. No one who doesn't know just what Scorpius is like would notice the smirk that dances across the mouth in the moving picture, but Al does. He wonders what it means.  
  
"The only reason we're not taking this further is because Scorpius has refused to say anything or permit any memories to be pulled for the Pensieve. I take it you are of the same mind." Al would _love_ to smooth this all over and prove that he's not the beast his brother currently thinks him. But how can he, when doing so would expose Scorpius? Would they lock him away if they knew he'd done all that to himself? Or what if they thought Scorpius's actions were that of an _Imperius_ stricken man? Remembering the events of the previous night, Albus knows that were he an onlooker into the situation, no conclusion he'd come to would benefit him.  
  
"Do the right thing, Al. I may not like him, but he looked _terrified_ when we brought him in this morning. It's not right to do that to another person." Al is silent. James shakes his head and it reminds Albus of times in their childhood when James would expect too much of him and would inevitably be disappointed. He knows he's lost his brother.  
  
They leave him in the room, alone, to think over things. He knows they want him to confess, but how can he? He should, because Scorpius only did all of that because of him, didn't he? He's worthless – _useless_ – a blundering fool who causes nothing but trouble. So caught up in his self-flagellation is he, Al fails to hear the sound of footsteps coming into the stone chamber. A hand falls onto his shoulder and he jumps.  
  
"Easy, Albus." It's his father, treating him like a skittish horse. Of _course_ he's here. Harry is still Head Auror, even if people make jokes that his son is going to stage a hostile takeover one day. Al doesn't fit in with the joking there or about Lily's job either. He's always been on the outside, the dull black sheep in a family of bright sparks. He even went down the same career path as his mother, but by twenty-three, she was a force to be reckoned with. He is nothing.  
  
"I heard about what happened." As always, his father gives him a chance to explain things. Albus has nothing to tell him and instead he closes his eyes and rests his weary head on top of crossed arms, letting the words wash over him.  
  
"Draco Malfoy is, understandably, furious. Something tells me you're no longer welcome at the flat, so I've taken the liberty of moving all of your things out before Scorpius gets home." Home. Not _Al's_ home. No, he doesn't belong anywhere.  
  
"I knew you weren't mature enough for this in the first place. You don't even have one word to say?" Albus has plenty to say, but he can't speak. His shoulders start shaking, and Al himself isn't sure whether it's due to suppressed hysterical laughter or tears.  
  
"No, it's a bit late for 'sorry's now, isn't it? Come on, let's go."  


**

  
  
_To Mr Albus Severus Potter,  
  
In light of the recent accusations against your person and the subsequent media furore, it is recommended that perhaps now is the time for you to take some time off in order to arrange your personal affairs. This holiday extends to, but is not limited to, all practices, press conferences and matches. If you might like to continue socialising with the team outside of hours, we are amenable to the idea.  
  
We hope to see you back on the field soon.  
  
Management  
Pride of Portree_   


**

  
  
It's been nearly a _week_ and Al is frantic. He's not heard from Scorpius and all of his owls are repelled from the flat. He doesn't know if it's Scorpius's doing or his father's but in the end it makes no difference. He wants to hold Scorpius and tell him that he misses him. He wants to make sure he's the first thing Scorpius sees in the morning so Scorpius doesn't wake up one day and realise that he can do better.  
  
Scorpius will move on quickly, Albus knows. All it will take is a drink by some usurper or from a 'friend' looking to pick up the pieces and Scorpius will be gone. Al knows he won't look back this time. What would there be to come back to? A disgraced Keeper? What is obviously an unhealthy relationship? Al knows it's not right how much he depends on Scorpius for everything and how little he gives back to the man who supports him. Maybe this is for the best. Maybe now Scorpius can find a proper relationship with someone who can appreciate him. Al hasn't exactly done a stellar job.  


**

  
  
_The letter slips through his nerveless fingers as Albus tries to come to terms with what he has read. Termination of employment… effective immediately… severance pay…  
  
Al doesn't care about the details or the whys and wherefores. He knew it was coming. When the scandal about Wilton broke, the club did the same thing then as they're doing now. Cut and run. Pay off the rest of the contract and disassociate from the baggage. Albus can feel his heart skipping beats in his chest and his hands are freezing cold.  
  
Scorpius is gone. Al's family barely speak to him enough to ask him to pass the salt at mealtimes. He's lost his livelihood and the only thing he's good enough to do. He is back where he started: a dependent. A parasite. No matter what he does, or how far he goes with his life, he will always be brought crashing down to reality. His reality is that he isn't allowed anything nice. When he dies, he will be cold, crushed by life and alone.  
  
Why prolong the pain? Why keep going? What's the _point _? He is unemployable. Even his own grandmother can't look him in the eye anymore. He is going through the motions, running on autopilot just to get through the day. Why can't he just switch off?  
  
He picks up his wand with a trembling hand and considers it. No, he's still too much of a coward. He sneers at the idea of himself – at the joke of a person he is – and opens his beside cabinet. Scorpius isn't the only one who can acquire illicit potions. This Draught of Living Death has been nestled here – hiding here – ever since Al brewed it years ago at school and snuck out a vial. It looks to be the correct colour and Al reckons that even if it's not quite right, the mistakes will add to the toxicity.   
  
He hopes so, anyway._  


**

  
  
Albus jerks awake with a scream, knowing instantly that he has failed yet _again_. He has no time to castigate himself, as a sound like a whip crack rings through the air. It takes a few moments for Al to register that he has been slapped, his head knocked to one side, and he places a hand over his burning cheek. Hands thread their way crudely through his hair and yank his face up to meet another. All he can see is pale skin and grey eyes and blonde hair and blood-red lips. ' _He's back, oh thank fuck he's back_ ,' Al thinks, and even though he feels like his neck is going to snap from the pressure of being held in this position, he can't help but be elated.  
  
"You don't _ever_ get to leave me." Scorpius snarls, and Al can see that the tooth he smashed out of his own face has been re-grown. He shakes his head, but this isn't good enough for Scorpius.  
  
"I want to fucking hear you say it." Albus's mouth feels like cotton and his throat feels like barbed wire has been pulled through it but he will do whatever Scorpius wants. "Repeat after me," Scorpius says. "I won't ever leave you, Scorpius." Al swallows, trying to work up enough spit to lubricate his dry tongue and Scorpius must think he's stalling because he shakes him roughly, causing Al to wince as his neck makes an audible crunching sound. There are tears in his eyes, but Albus knows it's because he never expected to get a second – no, this must be the fifth or the sixth time Scorpius has taken him back – chance. He looks right into Scorpius's thunderstorm gaze and repeats,  
  
"I won't _ever_ leave you, Scorpius." His head is released and Scorpius falls on him, murmuring sweet nothings and pressing tender kisses against Al's exposed skin.  
  
Al doesn't think he deserves this, any of this, but somehow he has it and he's never letting go.


End file.
